Escupitadors De Muerte (Capitulo Tres)
by Dejah Thoris
Summary: A part of the weird Round Robin thing.


Rachel pushes open the door to the Salon Sorquina and pulls Harry in. "Come on, you're going to love this joint. Everyone else is already here."   
She leads Harry across the crowded dance floor and over to a set of tables, where Harry can already see the Death Spitters. Random has her arm around a boy dressed in punk clothing with curly dyed hair. Andrew and Jenny are kissing, and Draco is sitting alone, nursing a drink.   
Random lifts one hand to acknowledge Rachel and Harry. "Hey, have you met Scott?"   
Rachel gives Scott a cold look. "Random, he's my brother. Of course I know him."   
"I was talking to Harry," Random says.   
Scott gives him a lethargic wave. "Whassup."   
"Have I seen you anywhere before?" Harry asks.   
"I think so," Scott says. He stands up suddenly. "It's been great, Random, but I gotta get going."   
Random gives him a kiss. "Have fun." And Scott is gone.   
Rachel sits down next to Random and pulls Harry down with her. "Lighten up, okay? We're here to have fun. You want a drink?"   
"Do they have butterbeer?" Harry asks.   
Rachel smiles and rolls her eyes. "We're in the Salon Sorquina and he asks for butterbeer," she commented to Random. "Yeah, but don't get that. I'll get you something that'll warm you up." She grabs a passing hob. "Hey, can you get this guy a Dragon's Balls with a shot of espresso? Get two of them, actually. And get me a Sex In A Graveyard."   
The hob nods, and then turns to Draco. "Do you want anything, sir?"   
Draco is staring at Rachel, his chin propped up in his hands. The hob has to repeat his question three times before Draco notices. "Huh? Oh. Just some scumble."   
Rachel raises one eyebrow. "You're drinking scumble? Why?"   
Draco stares morosely into thin air. "You know why."   
Rachel leans across the table. "No, I don't," she says, softly and dangerously. "Tell me why."   
Andrew and Jenny stop kissing. "Uh-oh," Andrew says. Jenny frantically makes motions for Rachel not to ask.   
Draco stands up, knocking over his drink. "You know why?" he yells. "I'll tell you why! You go around all the time with that stupid idiot Harry Potter and you never even look at me! He's not even in the Death Spitters! He doesn't even like you! He'd hate you if you didn't put that spell thing on him! And I-I'm here, I'm practically going nuts over you, and you don't even look at me! You don't even look at me, you stupid bitch!"   
Rachel gives him a cool stare. "Has it ever occurred to you," she says, "that I'm not going out with you because you're in the Death Spitters?"   
Draco gapes at her.   
"I don't date anyone in the group," Rachel says. "Sure, I used to be with Andrew, but that was before this all happened. When we started the Spitters, we had to break up. I get my power from sex. Dad gets his power from his followers. I don't want to be like my dad."   
A man at the bar turns around. "And why not?"   
Rachel sighs. "Hi, Dad."   
Voldemort slithers across the dance floor, to where the Death Spitters are sitting. Andrew and Jenny watch with great interest. Random has taken out a cell phone and is dialing a number. Draco is trying to hide. And Harry is shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.   
Rachel doesn't seem to be perturbed at all. Her arms are crossed. One leather boot taps impatiently, the other ready to kick someone in a soft area. She glares at her dad like a teenybopper that's been busted breaking curfew. "Do you have to do this all the time?" she whines.   
Voldemort gives her an evil stare. "You came here with Harry Potter? My sworn enemy?"   
"Yes," Rachel says. "What's it to you?" She looks back at Harry, and whispers, "Put your arms around my waist and don't let go no matter what. If you do that, you'll be safe." Harry obeys her, without really knowing why.   
"You have brought him to me, and I thank you for that." Voldemort reaches out to grab Harry.   
Rachel slaps his hand back. "Hey, none of that! I didn't drag this kid all the way out here just so you could kill him. I just wanted to show him a good time, okay?"   
"But now I'm going to kill him," Voldemort explains.   
"No," Rachel says, "you aren't."   
Voldemort hisses. "Even though you are my daughter, I will have to get you out of the way." He aims his wand and uttered the spell that would kill her.   
Rachel deflects the green flash of light easily. It bounces off the mirror and harmlessly dissipates. "Whoops. You can't hurt me, remember?" She grins, almost teasing. "You don't have custody."   
Voldemort roars. "You brat!"   
Rachel flicks the comment away. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Oh, and Mom wants her basilisk back. And I need 20 Galleons."   
Voldemort digs in his pocket. "What for?"   
"My allowance." Rachel holds out her hand. "Mom forgot again."   
Voldemort dumps 20 Galleons into her hand. "Tell your mother I'll have Wormtail get it to her, okay? And if you ever show up here with Harry Potter again," giving the boy an evil glare, "he's mine." He Disapparates.   
Rachel sighs and tips the Galleons into her pocket. "Jeez, what a prick."   
"You said it, I didn't," Scott comments, Apparating next to Random. "What'd I miss?"   
"Your allowance," Rachel says. "Hey Harry, you can let go of me now." She gently prises his hands off of her waist.   
Andrew and Jenny go back to snogging. Scott drags Random out onto the dance floor; the DJ is playing the Static Revenger mix of "Sandwiches" by the Detroit Grand Poohbahs.   
Draco slams down his glass of scumble. "Bugger this," he says thickly. "I'm going back to Hogwarts." He pulls on his leather jacket and shoves his way out of the door.   
Rachel shrugs. "He's not gonna get too far."   
"What makes you say that?" Harry asks.   
"Five glasses of scumble," Rachel says. "I give him ten yards before he passes out."   



End file.
